Our Broken Souls
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: Sam has been kidnapped by the British Men of Letters. Dean and Castiel travel to save him and come across some unexpected help in the form of an ancient king and his servant. Meanwhile, in the shadows, dark things more terrible than any of them have seen before are stirring...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This idea has been bouncing around my head for a while now so I hope you guys enjoy reading it. It'd set after season 11 of Supernatural so I wouldn't recommend reading if you haven't got to that point yet. This is my first Supernatural fic and my first attempt at a crossover, so bear with me if it's a little off.**

* * *

Our Broken Souls

Sam woke with a groan. His head was pounding and the bullet wound in his leg was throbbing painfully, not to mention the discomfort on his wrists and chest that came with being bound to a chair. He groggily opened his eyes and squinted at his surroundings. He appeared to be in some sort of abandoned warehouse - why was it always warehouses? - and corridors stretched off into the distance. There was just one window which was so caked in dirt that only a little pale light managed to filter through.

Sam strained against his bonds but they were expertly tied. They weren't quite tight enough to cut off circulation, but enough to prevent any movement that would enable him to attempt escape. The rope was good and there were no signs of fraying that Sam could detect. These so-called British Men of Letters knew what they were doing. Suddenly the clack of heels filled the room and Sam jerked his head up to locate the source of the noise. A woman in her early 30s was stalking towards him. Lady Toni Bevell, Sam remembered she was called. Her long blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail and she was carrying a file - his no doubt.

"Sam. How nice to see you awake. Where's Dean?"

"Dead."

"So you say. However, I have every reason to believe you're lying to protect your wayward brother and none to trust you. And, if you hadn't noticed, you're the one currently tied up. So I suggest you co-operate."

"Go to Hell."

Toni ignored him and continued speaking. "We've been watching you and your brother for a long time now Sam. We know what you've done, the people who have died because of you. Believe me, if I'd had my way, that bullet would have gone through your head rather than your leg. However, my supervisors think that you could be of some use to us after all. They want you alive, although in what condition they didn't specify. If you won't tell us what we want to know, we have ways of making you talk. By the time we're done - and that won't be for a long time, I assure you - we will know everything we need and you will have been moved to a more... permanent location."

"So you claim to know everything about Dean and I. Then you'll know that, to save the world from Amara, Dean was turned into a walking, talking soul bomb and was blown apart from the inside."

Sam had the satisfaction of seeing Toni's confident mask slip for a second before she narrowed her eyes at him. "You're lying."

Sam sighed. "Look, lady, believe what you want. I don't have anything to tell you." He took another glance round the room "You said you and your friends have been keeping out of the way. This where you've been hiding out?"

Toni laughed mirthlessly. "Here? No. This is just for today. Tomorrow we'll be moving somewhere much further away where your little friends can't get at you."

"What makes you think anyone's coming for me? Cas is gone, and he can't track me anyway. Dean's dead. Anyone else who cared enough about me to come looking got killed."

Toni smirked a little. "We'll see about that." Abruptly, she turned and started walking away, her shoes echoing on the dusty concrete. "Until tomorrow, Sam," she called back.

Sam's shoulders slumped and he leant back into his chair, alone once more.

* * *

Merlin blinked. He was stood by a lake surrounded by a forest. Somewhere in the middle of the lake there was a small island, upon which there stood a tall obelisk. He instantly recognised this place as Avalon, as it had been in the days before Arthur's death and the long years he had spent alone.

"Hello? Arthur?" He called out. There was no reply but for the wind whispering through the trees and long grass. Merlin looked around desperately, searching for something, some _one_ to explain why he was here. The hope that it might finally be time quickly faded, replaced by despair and hopelessness. He sank to his knees in the grass and put his head in his hands, at last allowing a sob to escape him. He'd been foolish enough to dare to believe his waiting was over... Look where that had got him.

"Merlin?" A woman's voice came from behind him, right by the water's edge. Merlin spun around and stared at the figure opposite him. She was as beautiful as the first time he set eyes on her with her dark hair cascading past her shoulders and the tattered red dress she'd been wearing all those years ago. She had a small smile on her face and Merlin's eyes welled up with tears as all the memories he'd tried so hard to bury came rushing back.

"Freya?" He managed to choke out. She nodded and he made to rush towards her, but she held out a hand to stop him.

"This isn't my physical form, Merlin," she explained. "You won't be able to touch me as the Veil still separates us. We must talk quickly. The time for action is almost upon us. Things have been stirring in Avalon, some good but some terrible, far worse than last time."

Merlin shuddered involuntarily. What could be worse than the havoc Morgana had wreaked in Camelot?

"I don't know what waits ahead," Freya explained. "But I do know that it must be dealt with, and swiftly. If we don't defeat it then the world will fall."

"How though? How am I supposed to defeat something when I don't even know what it is?"

"You will have help. Arthur will be returned and there will be others too. You will meet them soon enough. Return here at sunset in exactly one week. They'll be here."

"Thank you Freya. I'll be here," Merlin promised. She smiled at him again then her form flickered and faded away, leaving Merlin alone with only the gentle lapping of the water to comfort him.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope that was an okay first chapter. I'm going to try and update as often as I can and hopefully this story will be finished by the time Season 12 premieres. No promises though. School will be keeping me pretty busy this year. Please review! Bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I just want to quickly thank anyone who's read this story so far, in particular thanks to xjmcx19 for the review. I hope you enjoyed last chapter and that you'll continue to enjoy it. Onwards!**

* * *

Chapter 2

Dean had seen a lot of crap in his time. Angels, demons, God, even? Sure, he could deal with that. But his very dead mother standing in front of him looking very much alive? That took the biscuit. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he dimly registered that this was Amara's way of paying him back for reuniting her with Chuck, but his usually agile brain still seemed to be stuck on the fact that she was here, she was real, she was _alive._

Dean mentally shook himself and attempted to make his vocal cords work, but he only managed to croak out one word.

"Mom?"

The woman in front of him, seemingly recovering from her shock, rushed forward. Before Dean could react, she grabbed his shirt and held a fist up, ready to strike. Apparently the hunter in her had never truly gone away.

"Who are you?" She demanded. "Where am I?"

Dean swallowed. This was going to be hard. "Your name is Mary Winchester. I'm Dean Winchester, your son."

She scoffed. "You think I'm going to believe that? My Dean is four."

Dean remembered another conversation like this back in 1979, one that Mary didn't know ever happened. He steeled his nerve and began to speak.

"It's true, I promise. When I would get sick, you would make me tomato rice soup because that's what your mom made you. When I couldn't sleep, instead of a lullaby, you would sing 'Hey Jude' to me, because that's your favourite Beatles song. And each night, before me and Sammy went to sleep, you would tell us that angels are watching over us."

Mary's grip on Dean's shirt loosened and she stumbled back, shock written all over her pale face.

"How did you-" she began.

"Because I'm your son," Dean gently replied. "You died when I was four years old and Sammy was six months. A demon came into Sam's nursery on 2nd November 1983 and he killed you in a fire above the crib when you tried to stop it. But don't worry because, Sam and me, we returned the favour. Son of a bitch died years ago."

Mary was staring at him, the realisation that he was telling the truth beginning to dawn on her. She swayed dangerously so, before she could crumple to the earth, Dean ran forward and caught her. He held her and, after a brief moment, she gripped him tight with a surprising ferocity. They stood together, mother and son reunited, and, for the first time that night, Dean allowed the tears to fall.

* * *

Dean could have stayed like that forever but he knew they had to get out of wherever they were. Sam and Cas both thought he was dead - not to mention Mary - and, if he was being honest, all Dean wanted was to get back home to the Bunker and his bed. He gently pulled away and brushed the back of his hand against his eyes. He glanced up and saw Mary doing the same.

"Mom." Dean's voice was still thick with tears so he quickly cleared his throat before trying again. "Mom, we need to go. Have to get back to Sammy and -" his breath caught slightly "and Cas. Let them know we're not dead. Not safe here anyway."

Mary nodded. "Okay. Where are we?"

Dean squinted round. The landscape felt oddly familiar and a memory tickled in the back of his head. Voices sounded behind him and he spun, gasping.

* * *

"Dean," a woman's voice fondly called. "Don't run off please. Stay where we can see you."

Dean turned towards the source of the noise. A little boy ran out from between the trees and, a few feet behind him, walked a man and a woman. The man's arm was wrapped around the woman's waist and she was pushing a stroller ahead of her. Dean - the younger Dean - nodded at his parents and ran off again to explore the 'wilderness'. Mary and John shook their heads and laughed. They looked so happy; it hurt to see them like this when he knew that in just a few short weeks that happiness would be shattered forever. In fact...

Dean swore lightly under his breath and his heart clenched as he recognised the scene. This was 2nd November 1983, the last good memory Dean had of them all together before Yellow Eyes came and took it all away. The day had been surprisingly warm for November - which was a change from all the electrical storms that had been plaguing them recently - and Dean had begged his parents to take him to the park. They had initially refused but, after much whining and more than a few crocodile tears on Dean's part, they had finally relented. They had spent nearly all day there and Dean had shown Sam all round the park as Sam grinned toothlessly up at his big brother.

* * *

The memory began to fade and soon it was gone completely. Dean realised he was crying again and hurriedly wiped his tears away before turning to face his mother.

"I know where we are," he choked out hoarsely.

Mary waited expectantly as Dean tried to settle his jangled nerves.

"We're in Lawrence. We're home."

* * *

Mary had taken the revelation that - until a few hours ago anyway - she was dead surprisingly well. She had seemed reluctant to leave Lawrence but Dean knew it was for the best and she eventually agreed with him. The two of them were driving along the I-70 towards Lebanon in a clunky old pick-up Dean had hotwired off the side of the road. Fortunately the Bunker was only a couple of hours away; Dean didn't think this old rust-bucket could stand more than that. It wasn't a patch on his Baby.

"Where are we going again?" Mary asked.

"There's this Bunker. It's the safest place on Earth for people like us and it had files on every nasty out there. It used to belong to the Men of Letters - Dad's dad was one of them - but they were mostly wiped out in the 50's. One of the survivors gave us a key to the Bunker - turns out we're Legacies - so now Sam and me have taken over the joint. Him and Cas should be there when we arrive."

"John never talked about his father much," Mary absently commented. "Only that he disappeared when John was young."

Dean winced, unsure whether or not to talk about his involvement in Henry's 'disappearance'. He sucked in a deep breath and made to explain.

"Henry... He didn't exactly disappear."

Mary turned in her seat to face him. "What do you mean?" she asked sharply.

"In 1958 a, er, a Knight of Hell called Abbadon attacked the Men of Letters. Henry managed to escape by creating a portal into the future. It was supposed to take him to Dad, but he ended up with me and Sam instead. Abbadon followed him through and we managed to defeat her but Henry got killed doing so. That's why he never came back. He saved our lives and we got him killed in return." Dean hung his head, feeling his mother's gaze burning into the back of his head.

Minutes passed before Mary spoke again. "It wasn't your fault Dean," she said softly. "Henry made his own choice. If only John had known what a hero his father was..." She started suddenly as if something had just occurred to her. "You said that portal was supposed to take Henry to your father. Why didn't it? Where's John?"

Dean's throat constricted and he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He'd known this was coming yet he still wasn't prepared for how hard it was going to be. "Dad... He, um, he's..." He heard Mary's sharp intake of breath that indicated she knew what was about to follow. Tears blurred Dean's vision and he quickly blinked them away. "He died a few years back. I was really badly injured in hospital, apparently I was about to die. Dad sold his soul to The Demon so that he died in exchange for me being healed. He went to Hell for me, Mom. I mean, he got out eventually but he's still dead and it's all my fault."

The grief over his father's death that had lain dormant for years suddenly rose up and threatened to choke him. He guided the truck to the side of the road and sat back in his seat. His breathing was too fast and his hands were shaking so badly he probably would have crashed the car if he'd been driving. Mary slid her arm around his shoulders and Dean felt a twinge of guilt; it should have been him comforting her. After all, she was the one who had just been resurrected over 30 years after her death only to learn that her husband had died before she could see him again. But he couldn't stop the tidal wave of emotion pouring out of him so he let his mother hold him like she had done when he was four years old.

* * *

They could have sat there for hours; Dean didn't know or care. Eventually, however, his tears dried and he managed to get them back onto the road. Just under an hour later they were pulling up in front of the comforting sight of the Bunker. Dean led the way down the steps and through the front door. Mary followed him, gazing in wonder at the large atrium they found themselves in. It appeared to be deserted; Sam and Cas must have been in their rooms. Dean leaned on the banister and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nose. It felt good to be home again.

That good feeling lasted approximately three seconds after re-opening his eyes. That was also about the amount of time it took for him to notice the pools of blood on the marble floor and register what it meant. All rational thought went out of his head and he pounded down the metal stairs. In the back of his mind he vaguely heard Mary calling for him and asking what was wrong but Dean couldn't focus on anything but the red stains before him.

He knelt down in front of the largest puddle and dipped his fingers in it. It had cooled and begun to dry, which meant that whoever had done this had left hours ago. Upon further inspection he noticed a large sigil on the wall. Angel banishing. Whatever had happened, this person had obviously known who - what - they would be dealing with. Blind panic clouded Dean's mind and he frantically searched the room for any sign of his brother. Finding none, he ran his hands through his hair. If only he hadn't stopped on that stupid road, if only he hadn't broken down like he did, maybe then he'd have got back in time to help Sam and Cas.

"SAM!" He yelled into the empty space. "SAMMY! CAS!"

* * *

Castiel was wandering a dusty backroad in the middle of nowhere when he heard a familiar voice call his name. It was faint, but he'd recognise those tones anywhere. Impossibly, Dean had survived. Cas tracked the faint cry to Lebanon and guessed that Dean had managed to find his way back to the Bunker. He closed his eyes, visualising the Bunker's main foyer, and suddenly he was there.

When he opened his eyes he spotted Dean kneeling on the floor. He was crying and a woman stood over him, her hand rubbing his back, whispering words of comfort into his hair. He cleared his throat and the woman spun. Her eyes widened at Cas's sudden appearance and she grabbed a gun off the table.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Cas said nothing. All his attention was focused on Dean, who was slowly standing up, his eyes fixated on Cas.

"Hello Dean." Cas inclined his head towards the man before him.

Mary moved to put herself between Cas and Dean. Without turning to look at him, she said to Dean, "Do you know this guy?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah," he breathed out. "This is Castiel. Cas, meet my mother."

Cas's eyes widened. It hadn't just been Dean to return from the dead that night then; somehow Mary Winchester had also been brought back. It didn't seem possible, only God could do things like that. Unless...

"Amara?" Cas asked.

Dean nodded. "She met with Chuck. Turns out a good old family reunion was just what they needed. They've gone up to God knows where to do a little quality bonding time and she brought my mom back in thanks."

Cas was still staring at Dean, trying to take in everything. He had believed he had never see him again and to have him standing in front of him now was more than Cas could ever have hoped for. Limited as Cas's understating of human emotions was, it was clear that Dean's mind was troubled.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Cas asked.

Dean looked down at the floor, then back up at Cas, fixing him with a piercing green-eyed stare. "Where's Sam, Cas? What happened here?"

* * *

It took a good hour to explain everything that had gone on since Dean's 'death' and with the end of the story also came the end of Dean's fourth beer. He was angrily pacing up and down the room whilst Cas and Mary watched him in anticipation.

"So you're telling me this British bitch comes in here, banishes you and makes off with Sam to who knows where? And we don't even know who she is?"

Cas nodded grimly. "Yes. I didn't get much of a look at her before she activated the sigil but I've never seen her before."

"How did she even know where to find us? I thought this place was hidden from everyone."

"I wish I knew." Cas shook his head sadly. "Do you know of any British women who might have a grudge against you?"

"No. Hell, I've only ever met about three British people in my life and I'm not even sure Crowley counts as a person. Mom? Do you know of anyone?"

Mary shook her head. "I'm sorry, Dean. I left the hunting life completely after I married John and I never knew anyone like that before."

Dean finally sat down and put his head in the hands. Cas felt the urge to go and comfort him but he was unsure of what to say. He searched for the right words for a moment before choosing perhaps the simplest of assurances.

"We will find Sam," he promised. "We'll bring him home."

Dean took a swig out of his new beer bottle. When he looked up, some of that old fire had rekindled in his eyes. "Damn straight."

* * *

 **A/N: Happy Supernatural Day! I hope you guys enjoyed that! Sorry it was solely a Supernatural chapter but I really wanted to put all this into this chapter and there isn't much on the Merlin storyline yet. But we will get back to it very soon. Please leave your thoughts and criticisms and I will update shortly. Bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam was pretty sure there wasn't a part of his body that didn't hurt. They'd moved him to another dingy warehouse but he didn't know where; they'd sedated him the entire trip. He'd woken up handcuffed to the chair with his head pounding to find Toni and some other people staring down at him. They had left him alone that day but the next morning it had begun. He was now bloodied and bruised from about a week of constant torture. He shifted in the rickety wooden chair, careful not to irritate the still raw burns that crisscrossed his body. Right now the bullet wound in his leg was the least of his problems; at least that had been properly taken care of. He closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep.

Some time later - it could have been minutes or hours, Sam didn't know - a bucket of freezing cold water splashed over him. He lifted his head as much as his stiff neck allowed and looked through tired eyelids at the two women before him. Toni was there as usual, carrying a notebook and pen in the vain hope that Sam would provide her with useful information. The other woman - Joanna, Sam remembered her name was - was standing slightly behind Toni in the shadows. She held a blowtorch and a cattle prod, no doubt the instruments on today's torture menu. The pair studied him for a moment, their eyes scrutinising every cut and burn.

"I must say, I'm impressed with you Sam," Toni commented. "Most people would have cracked by now but you... Our methods are extremely effective, I assure you, yet you're still insisting that your brother is dead when I have it on quite good authority that he is alive."

"Look me in the eyes," Sam ground out with as much energy as he could muster. "And tell me if I'm lying to you."

Toni leant down and braced herself on the arms of Sam's chair. Icy blue met warm hazel and she smiled sweetly. "You're lying. Now, where's Dean?"

Sam leant as far away from her as he could and huffed out a defeated sigh, resigning himself to another day of merciless torture. "Dead."

He heard Toni sigh impatiently. "You should really consider what you're doing here Sam. Preventing us from knowing your brother's location will have consequences on a huge scale. You'll tell us sooner or later. Joanna, try to help our young Mr. Winchester understand."

The woman in the shadows stepped forward, her face twisting into a cruel smirk. The light of the blowtorch cast an eerie red glow over her features. "With pleasure."

* * *

Merlin woke with a start. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest and the pained screams of the tortured man still echoed in his ears. He sat up slowly and took deep, measured breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. He'd been dreaming like this ever since he met Freya at the Lake; he suspected this was her way of warning him about what was to come. It wasn't always the same thing either. Sometimes it was the man he'd seen tonight, screaming as his captors pressed instruments of torture against his flesh. Other times - and these were especially hazy - he saw three figures poring over books in a grand atrium. Merlin guessed that they must have a personal connection to the other man.

The worst nights, though, were cloaked in darkness. Merlin couldn't move; he could only watch as things twisted and writhed in the black, plotting their revenge. It was those dreams that made him truly glad that Arthur was returning.

Sighing, he reached across to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. 3:28, it read. Merlin slid back down under the covers and closed his eyes. He didn't want to go to sleep again lest the nightmares return, but he knew he needed to be well rested for the next day.

* * *

 _He found himself on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere. That was odd; he'd never been here before. A door slammed in the distance and he whirled to see three figures exiting a house just up the road. With a jolt, Merlin realised they were the people from the atrium. The tallest one was striding towards him with a murderous look on his face whilst the other two - another man and a woman - hurried after him. Merlin tensed in readiness for a fight before remembering that they couldn't see him._

 _The man walked past Merlin towards a black 1967 Chevy Impala that was crookedly parked on the side of the road. He leant on the roof, breathing heavily, his hands balled into tight fists. The other two caught up and Merlin took the opportunity to study them like he hadn't been able to before._

 _They made an odd group, but it was clear that they had a close bond. Merlin hadn't seen a connection like this since the Knights back in Camelot. Still, it seemed like something - or someone, Merlin thought, remembering the tall man from earlier - was missing. There was a heavy tension in the air that none of them were willing to break._

 _The blonde woman and the man by the car just appeared to be ordinary humans; Merlin couldn't detect anything special about them. But the other... Outwardly, he was unremarkable in every way. He wore a dirty trench coat and stripy tie, nothing out of the ordinary, but Merlin could sense something about his aura that didn't seem fully human. It wasn't the usual feeling he got around others who had magic, it was just... different. What_ was _this guy?_

 _"Dean." The voice shook Merlin from his reverie and he turned to watch the scene in front of him. The woman had a hand on the man by the Impala's back. Merlin guessed he must be Dean._

 _"I should've known. It should've known it would be a trap. It's my fault that girl died."_

 _"It wasn't your fault Dean," the woman insisted. "None of us knew there would be hostages, none of us knew the demon lied. You did the right thing."_

 _Dean look unconvinced. His face was a mask of guilt; Merlin had worn that look often enough - with Freya, Hilda, Arthur - that he knew exactly what the man was thinking. He also knew that whatever had gone on in that house, whoever had died, it wasn't Dean's fault but that wouldn't stop him from blaming himself anyway._

 _"Your mother is right Dean." A gravelly voice spoke from behind Merlin. The guy in the trench coat moved to touch Dean's arm but stopped himself before making contact. "Besides, this trip might not have been a complete waste. I spotted something in that house that might help us find Sam. I have to check on a few leads; I'll meet you back at the Bunker." With that, he vanished. Okay, something was definitely up with him; no sorcerer Merlin had ever heard of could do that._

 _"Cas, wait- Dammit!" Dean cursed, spinning quickly. Merlin did a double take. Cas? Was that really his name? The woman put a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed._

 _"Don't worry Dean. Cas knows what he's doing. And it can only be good if he can get a lead on your brother. The most important thing now is getting Sam back," she said with conviction._

 _Dean nodded. "I know. It's just... With Sam gone, if we lost him too... I don't know." He walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in. After a second, the woman joined him and the car started up._

 _Merlin sighed in frustration as he watched the car roar away. He wished he knew what was going on. The dream slowly faded until Merlin was staring into darkness._

 _That was when the whispers began._

* * *

Sam screamed in agony as the cattle prod touched a particularly sensitive patch of skin. He heard the crackle of electricity in his ears and his body spasmed and jerked as the current flowed through him. Joanna smirked, looking at him like he was nothing more than a slab of meat. A trickle of sweat ran down his hairline, soaking the collar of his shirt.

Toni glared down at him. He hadn't told her anything she wanted to know and, after almost a week of the same, her patience was running very thin.

"I'm warning you, Sam, you do not want to make me any angrier. Now, what happened that day?"

"Told you," Sam panted. Toni nodded at Joanna and she jammed the cattle prod into his side again.

"You told me a lie," she yelled through his cries. "What happened?"

Sam looked up at her, tired defiance written all over his face. "God... Dying. Needed... To kill Amara... To save... World. Dean... Exploded. The end." Sam huffed a laugh. "If we knew... Where it would get us... Maybe wouldn't have... Tried so hard."

Reaching the end of her tether, Toni reared back and struck him across his face. The slap stung, but it was more shocking than painful. She preferred to get others to do her work for her rather than dirty her own hands; this was the first time she'd harmed Sam personally since shooting him back at the Bunker. Even Joanna raised her eyebrows slightly.

"I would love to be anywhere else but here," she hissed at him. "In fact, having you off the face the Earth is sounding particularly appealing right now."

"So kill me," Sam retorted, although it came out sounding more like a plea.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"Why not? I can't... Tell you anything."

"I'd agree with you, but I have it on good authority that your brother is still out there, as is that angel of yours. I don't care so much about him, but I need Dean. Besides, my superiors like you Sam."

"Funny... Way of... Showing it."

"They're impressed you haven't cracked yet. Oh, they want the information on Dean, but they also want to know about you. About the years before hunting, when you were making an honest life for yourself at Stanford. About Jessica Moore and the circumstances of her death. And the years after when so many of your so-called 'friends' died. Tell me, Sam, did you truly care for them, or were they just collateral damage in your pathetic crusade for revenge?" She smirked as Sam visibly flinched. "What makes Sam Winchester tick?"

"Have to... Get back to you... On that."

At a nod from Toni, the cattle prod hit his neck. The darkness that had been lingering at the edge of his vision for a while now rushed in, and Sam let himself sink into unconsciousness.

* * *

Toni took a step back and surveyed her prisoner. A trickle of blood dripped from his lip where it had split when she had hit him and his body was littered with the injuries they'd inflicted upon him. She briefly wondered if he really was telling the truth; after all, who could withstand that much torture and not break? But those thoughts were quickly dispelled as she remembered the CCTV photos that had been shoved under her nose that morning. It was blurry, but it was definitely Dean Winchester. The angel was with them, and a woman Toni hadn't recognised. She wasn't interested in either of the other two but taking them in with Dean would be an added bonus.

She sighed and brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. These Winchesters were turning out to be a bigger problem than they were supposed to be; she almost regretted taking the assignment in the first place. Still, the satisfaction that would come with knowing the world was safe from them at last would be worth it. The large paycheque she'd receive wouldn't hurt either. She looked at Joanna and gestured with her hand. The other woman followed her as she walked out of the room.

"Alert our operatives. I want Dean taken in as soon as possible. Alive," she clarified. "I don't care in what state but I need him alive. Attempt to apprehend his companions but leave them if they will endanger the mission. Let's get this over with."

Joanna nodded. "Yes, m'lady."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and being patient with me. This was meant to be posted a week ago but stuff happened and, long story short, life got in the way. I hope this is making some sense and I promise there will be a Sam and Dean reunion in the near future. I'll try and update soon. Bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read this story and special thanks to Ezza555 for the review! I'm so glad you're liking the story so far!**

* * *

Chapter 4

"Dean."

Dean jumped as Cas suddenly materialised next to him. The angel stood a foot away from Dean's chair and he had a bloody gash on one cheek that was quickly healing over. Dean lurched upright and grabbed Cas's shoulders, assessing him for injuries. When he was satisfied that Cas was more or less okay, Dean released him and attempted a glare.

"Where the hell have you been man?" He demanded, although his voice lacked any heat. In truth, Dean was just glad that his friend was alright.

"I've found Sam."

Dean staggered back a couple of steps and sat down heavily. "What? How?"

"It is only an approximation of his general location but I believe he has been captured by someone called Lady Toni Bevell. Back at the house I spotted a newspaper clipping that hinted at her whereabouts so I investigated and discovered a house that was heavily warded against angels. I cannot be 100% sure because the warding affected my powers, but I would guess that is where Sam is being held."

"Okay, where is this woman?"

Cas hesitated, causing Dean to squint suspiciously at him.

"Cas?" He prompted. "What's wrong?"

Cas swallowed. "This house is in a small village in England. Travelling in one country on my own is easy, but across continents, with passengers no less, will weaken me considerably. Especially to a country like England. Other forces more complex than any we've faced before are at work there. I can transport all three of us there but I don't know how it will affect me."

Dean slumped in his seat and sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Awesome. Look, Cas, I wouldn't ask this if it was anything else but it's Sam and-"

"I understand, Dean," Cas interrupted. "I want him back just as much as you. I just wish there was another way."

"You said the place was warded against you anyway, right?" Cas nodded. "Okay then. Mom and me'll go in, get Sam out whilst you hang back and heal. We'll meet up later. Okay?"

Cas sighed in defeat. "Alright. We can leave now if you want."

Dean stood and headed off to the Bunker's archives where Mary was holed up. Cas listened to his retreating footsteps and tried to quell the feeling that whatever they found in England wouldn't be anything good.

* * *

Mary had been scouring the archives from top to bottom looking for anything that would help find her youngest when Dean had charged in, yelling that they'd managed to locate Sam. She had been excited to learn what Cas had discovered - she was liking the angel more and more - but that feeling had soon faded when Dean had explained the plan. Or, rather, the lack of.

"So Cas is just going to drop us there and we're going to charge in without a plan?" She clarified.

"I have a plan," Dean protested. "Attack." He grinned round at his companions but that soon turned to disappointment when he realised nobody understood the reference. Mary guessed it must be from one of those new movies.

"Look," he said. "We're going to be careful, take our guns, knives, whatever, but we don't have much to make a plan out of. We don't know the layout of the house, hell, we don't even know what it looks like. What we do know, though, is that Sam's there and that we're going to get him out."

Mary felt a pang in her heart as she watched her son. He looked and sounded so much like John and, although she had missed him growing up, she already felt like she knew him. "Okay," she said softly. "I'm ready."

Castiel stretched his hands out to her and Dean. "I will take you to a clearing a little way from the house. I don't know what condition I will be in or what we will meet but I will do my best to protect you as much as I can." He touched two fingers to each of their foreheads and the world went black.

* * *

Like Cas had said, they landed in a clearing surrounded by trees. A dirt track just large enough for one car led off in both directions. Dean blinked the brightness of the morning sun out of his eyes and tried to orient himself to the new landscape. Mary stood to his left and Cas was a little way in front of him. With a glance at his mother to make sure she was alright, Dean made his way over to Cas.

"Cas, buddy, you okay?" He called.

Cas looked up in bewilderment. "It appears that my grace was restored to full power when God ascended to Heaven," he slowly informed Dean. "I also believe that some of Lucifer's grace was left in my vessel when Amara ripped him from my body which is why I am able to fly. My wings are still damaged but I suspect they cannot be fixed now, not after two trips to Hell and back."

Dean grinned at him. "That's great Cas. Really. Which way do we need to go?"

Cas pointed north. "I will come with you as far as I can."

Dean nodded. "That's all I ask." He clapped Cas's shoulder and gestured to Mary to follow them as they set off into the trees.

* * *

The house was large and imposing. Dean could totally see psycho kidnappers living here, sipping their tea and listening to the screams of their victims. Which reminded him, they didn't know what Sam had been going through; for all they knew that was exactly what had been happening over the past week. He strengthened his resolve to get to his brother as soon as possible.

A little way down the driveway Cas stopped abruptly. "I can go no further," he explained. "I wish I could tell you what you will face but I don't know. Be careful."

"Careful is my middle name," Dean joked.

Cas's brows furrowed in confusion. "I though your middle name was-"

Dean cut him off. "It's just a figure of speech, Cas."

"Oh." Some of the confusion still remained on the angel's face but he attempted a smile. "I will turn invisible and watch from the trees."

"You do that buddy." Dean squeezed Cas's shoulder once then he and Mary turned and headed round the back of the house. The gardens were carefully manicured and well trimmed; this Toni person was obviously stinking rich. Must be nice. About halfway round they found a small wooden door set into the stone wall. Dean took out his lockpick whilst Mary stood guard behind him, gun drawn. The lock was simple - it took about five seconds for Dean to pick it - and the door swung open. He drew his own gun and they headed into the shadows of the house.

* * *

They emerged in a deserted, well lit corridor. Several ornate paintings hung on the walls and there were many doors. Great. How were they supposed to find Sam here? Silently, Dean signalled for Mary to go left whilst he went right. She nodded and the two of them split up.

Dean had been searching for about half an hour when he came across the symbol. Finally. Still, if it meant what he thought it meant, this just got a whole lot more complicated. He sighed and dialled his mother's number.

"Mom? Think I've found Sam."

 _"Where are you?"_

"Right hand corridor, about 20 metres down. Listen, be careful. I think I know who we're dealing with and they're class A dickbags. I don't know how it's possible but I think these guys are Men of Letters. Or Women, in this case."

 _"I thought you said they'd been wiped out."_

"Apparently we don't know everything about them. Just hurry. Sooner we can find Sam the better."

 _"I'm on my way."_ The line clicked and Dean lowered the phone from his ear, his fingers idly tracing the pattern on the door. He heard a noise behind him and spun, levelling his gun at the threat. He let out a breath of relief as Mary rounded the corner. He clicked the safety back on and turned to face her.

"We may have a slight problem," he said. "The door doesn't have a lock but I still can't open it."

Mary frowned. "Are you certain it's a door?"

"Positive. This symbol wouldn't be here if there wasn't something behind it. If there's anything I've learnt about the Men of Letters, it's that they're sneaky sons of bitches and nothing is ever easy. Sam and me are the only ones with the key to get into the Bunker." He cast his eyes down. "At least, we thought we were. Guess we need to add that to the list of things we don't know."

While Dean had been talking, Mary had been surveying the door. She traced the outline of the symbol and dug her nail into the ridges to look for hidden catches. Finding nothing, she took a step back and furrowed her brow, biting her nails anxiously. She stood like that for perhaps a minute before letting out a sharp gasp. Dean watched her curiously as she approached the door and rested her hands on the two diamond shapes, gently pressing inwards. With a groan, locks clicked and the door swung open. Dean cast an impressed look at his mother before drawing his gun and moving in, Mary following close behind.

* * *

The door slammed behind them, leaving them in darkness. Dean took two torches out of his jacket and tossed one to Mary. Switching the safety off on his gun, he crossed one hand over the other and crept cautiously down the steps, feeling for any traps.

They got to the bottom intact and were faced with another door. This one just had a simple, easy to pick lock on it but Dean still hesitated in reaching for his kit. He glanced apprehensively at his mother and received a nod and an encouraging smile. Spurred on, he deftly picked the lock and turned the handle.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness of the fluorescent lights but, when they did, he heard Mary gasp in shock behind him. Puddles of dirty water flooded the floor and a table with all the torture instruments imaginable stood in the corner. The whole place reeked with the stench of blood and - even worse - burnt flesh. But Dean didn't care about any of that, no, his attention was focused on the figure in the centre of the room.

A man was tied in a chair, slumped over with his hands cuffed behind his back. He wore a thin white t-shirt and jeans and his feet were bare. Long brown hair obscured his features but Dean would know him anywhere.

"Sammy?"

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger ending. It wasn't meant to end here but it made more sense than what I'd originally planned. Sorry if this seemed a little rushed but I want to get the first bit out the way so I can get into the main plot. I think it's pretty clear this won't be finished until after season 12 has aired but that doesn't really matter. Please leave a review if you want and I'll try to update soon! Bye!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Who's hyped for season 12 on Wednesday? I can't wait! Quick reminder, this story will be completely AU as of the moment season 12 airs, although it kind of is already considering the Merlin aspect to it. Thanks to LilQueen101, Reading-Stories-Only and Sakura Lisel for your reviews! I hope I answered your question properly, Sakura Lisel. I'm glad you're all enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it!**

* * *

Chapter 5

Dean was shocked by how awful his brother looked. It wasn't as if he'd been expecting Sam to be at his fighting weight but he hadn't even dreamed of anything like this. The thin t-shirt he was wearing offered little protection against the freezing cold and it had so many tears that it was more of a rag. A very bloody rag. It hung loosely off Sam's frame and Dean thought that, if he got close enough, he'd be able to count the other man's ribs. Sam's head was bowed as he slumped in the old wooden chair, the tight bonds the only thing keeping him in it. His long, straggly hair hung in his face, so Dean couldn't see the damage there, but he could guess that it was just as bad, if not worse. He looked at Mary, whose horrified expression matched his own, and the two of them rushed forward.

He landed on his knees in front of Sam and handed a paperclip to Mary, who got to work on the too-tight handcuffs. Dean took Sam's face in his hands, wincing at how gaunt he looked, and quickly examined his injuries. The bloody lacerations and burns looked a lot worse close up and a sickly yellow bruise was covering his face under the left eye. Dean swallowed and tapped Sam's cheek in an attempt to wake him up.

"Sam? Sammy? Come on, man, I need you to wake up. We gotta get out of here." Sam began to stir and Dean loosened his grip a little. "Sammy?"

Sam's eyelids cracked open and he took in Dean's face hovering in front of him. "D'n?" Hope flickered in Sam's eyes for a brief second before dying quickly away. He shook his head and let it fall onto his chest. "No," he mumbled. "Dean's dead. 'M dreaming."

Dean felt his heart breaking in two as he realised - of course, Sam still thought he'd died defeating Amara. He attempted a smile as he rapidly helped Mary cut away the rope across his brother's chest, catching Sam before he could fall.

"Yeah, you wish little brother. Come on." He brought Sam's left arm across his shoulders and heaved the younger man to his feet as Mary rushed round to take the other. They'd done this far too many times for Dean not to notice how much lighter Sam seemed now, and not just because he now had someone to help him with his giant of a brother. What had they been feeding him? _Had_ they been feeding him? Dean tightened his grip and nodded determinedly at Mary. Time to put this place in their rear-view mirror.

* * *

Of course, everything chose that particular moment to go amazingly wrong. They were Winchesters, after all; they couldn't so much as take a leak without the world threatening to explode on them. Why should a simple rescue mission be any different?

Two women strode into the room, guns in hand. The blonde one - Toni, Dean guessed - in front smiled widely.

"Well well well. We were wondering when you were going to show your face Dean," she told him, still with that infuriating smirk on her face. "Did you really think you'd be able to waltz in here without any of us noticing? Put your brother down and hands in the air. You too," she said, gesturing towards Mary.

"Get away from my boys," Mary quietly threatened.

"Your boys?" Toni asked in confusion. After a minute realisation started to dawn on her and she grinned widely. "Well. I ask for two Winchesters, I get three. I really ought to thank you. You know, we all honestly believed you were dead, unlike Dean here. Then again, you lot have an annoying habit of not staying that way. Now, drop the prisoner and put your hands in the air." She levelled her gun at Dean's chest. "Don't make me ask a third time."

Dean rolled his eyes. "We both know you're not going to pull that trigger."

She laughed. "Funny, Sam said the exact same thing. I think you'll find I'm extremely willing to fire and next time I won't be so generous in where I aim."

Dean started and glanced back at Sam, noticing for the first time the inflamed bullet wound on his leg. "Bitch!"

She tutted. "Language, Dean. Do as I ask and no one gets hurt." She paused. "Yet."

Dean exchanged a glance with Mary and sighed. Understanding passed between the two and they slowly lowered Sam to the floor where he slumped against a pillar. They raised their hands in the air in surrender.

Toni smiled. "Very good." She motioned to the woman behind her to detain them and Dean found himself being dragged to the corner of the room with a surprisingly strong grip. The brunette roughly yanked his arms above his head and cuffed them to a pair of shackles hanging from the ceiling, taking extra care to pinch his skin slightly as she slammed them closed. He silently prayed that she wouldn't notice the lock pick kit in his pocket - not that it would do him much good - but, alas, she found it and removed it, along with all the other weapons he'd stashed on his person.

* * *

Toni had kept her gun trained on Mary whilst Dean was being locked up to make sure he didn't try to fight back. He watched helplessly as the other woman stalked back across the room - kicking Sam viciously on the way - and grabbed his mother's shoulder. Mary swung round at the touch and delivered a quick punch to the woman's face before wrenching her shoulder out of her grip and dropping to the floor. As she did so, a loud bang echoed across the room and the brunette woman staggered back in shock.

Toni had fired a split second too late and the bullet hit her subordinate in the chest. Blood bloomed across the woman's shirt, creating a large, dark stain, and she crumpled to the ground, dead. Mary rushed forward and knocked the gun out of Toni's hand. The British woman's face was ashen and she gaped in shock at the bloody corpse on the floor in front of her, barely reacting when Mary attacked her. The gun skittered into a dark corner and Mary pulled out her own weapon and levelled it at Toni, clicking the safety off. She was breathing heavily, but her hands were steady and she was every inch the hunter she used to be.

"Release my boys," she said slowly, her voice containing a dangerous edge. "And no one else gets hurt."

"Someone always gets hurt when they're around you for too long," Toni spat back. All the sadistic amusement had left her and venomous hate twisted her features. "I'll let you go this time but, mark my words, we won't be as forgiving next time. Now that you're all together I can finally rid this world of you for good. We found you once, we can do so again." With that, Toni threw a spare set of keys over to Mary and slunk back into the shadows. Mary quickly retrieved the other woman's gun before heading over to Dean and unlocking him. Dean rubbed his wrists and sent a poisonous glare Toni's way, before returning his attention back to his injured little brother.

* * *

Sam had managed to regain some semblance of consciousness and was vainly trying to push himself up into a sitting position. Each breath rattled in his chest and the old bullet wound from his first encounter with the Men of Letters was sending spikes of pain through his body. He hadn't been able to get a good look at it yet but he was experienced enough with wounds that he was pretty sure he had an infection. Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of complaints he'd compiled, the most recent being - why did he have to hurt in a dream? Which this definitely was.

He'd been stupid enough to hope someone had come to rescue him when he heard Dean's voice next to him. Stupid because Dean was dead and suffering eternity in The Empty. This just had to be another one of the nightmares he'd had ever since being brought here - when they allowed him to sleep, that was. The dream was fuzzy; he'd heard a loud bang, which wasn't kind on his already throbbing head, and now something was grasping him under his arms and talking rapidly in his ears. He was too tired to work out what the person was saying or fight back against the unknown force; he only managed to catch random words.

"Sammy - come on - out - Mom - quick."

Another voice joined in with the first, this one sounding much more feminine and softer than the other, which was remarkably like Dean's. "Sweetie - got you - careful."

Then they were moving and he let out a sigh of relief as cool air washed over him. His headache eased slightly and he gazed with half-moon eyes up at the two people he was supported between. This further confirmed he was dreaming because the man on his left was definitely Dean and the woman on his right looked suspiciously like his mother as she was in the few photos he had of her. Even if Dean had somehow miraculously survived his encounter with Amara - which he hadn't - his mother had been dead for 33 years and she wasn't ever coming back. A tear slipped down his cheek and his eyes drifted closed as the dream faded.

* * *

Merlin shot upright in bed. Freya's voice echoed in his head, repeating one sentence over and over.

 _They are coming._

Something told him that she didn't just mean Arthur and the people from his dreams. Whatever it was that was writhing in the darkness was close to breaking free from the prison that had been holding it and Merlin knew the horror that would be unleashed upon the world would have global consequences.

He calmed his racing heart and glanced out of the window. Dawn was just breaking and it cast beautiful shades of red and orange across the sky. With a wry smile, Merlin remembered an old saying Gaius had once told him.

 _Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning._

The saying was used to predict the weather. Although generally inaccurate, Merlin had a horrible sense of foreboding that it would come true today, come rain or shine. He quickly got dressed in a blue shirt and black jeans with a red scarf around his neck. He grabbed his leather jacket from the trunk under his bed and pulled on his buckled boots before heading out the door. The Lake of Avalon glittered in the distance and he could just spot the obelisk rising proudly from the island at its centre. Despite his ill feeling, Merlin felt a smile creep up his face. Today, no matter how events turned out, he would see Arthur again. Today was a good day.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry for the lack of Merlin, but there will be a lot more in future chapters because they are going to meet soon, I promise. Let me know what you think and I'll update next week! Bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of an update last week. I was away on a trip to Berlin and I didn't have much wifi. I say it every time, but I'm so grateful for all the support you guys have given to this story. Thanks in particular to fadedrage for the review!**

* * *

Chapter 6

"CAS!" Dean roared as the three of them stumbled out of the house. Sam had gone dead weight in their arms and, if it weren't for Mary supporting his other side, Dean knew they'd never have made it out. They stared in shock as the prone forms of a few men in suits - probably Toni's supervisors - littered the driveway. Cas appeared in front of them, causing Mary to jump. Dean, being more used to Cas's sudden appearances and disappearances, reached out and clasped his friend's shoulder with his free hand.

"Cas, what happened?" He asked urgently.

Cas looked around ruefully. "They suddenly arrived in that car," he explained, indicating the large black SUV parked to the side. "They were going to enter the house; I put them to sleep as soon as I realised."

"Angels can do that?" Mary questioned, surprise in her voice.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "That, and a whole load of other weird crap. Cas, can you take Sam? I'm gonna go hotwire that thing."

"We're going to steal their car?" Mary demanded.

Dean shrugged. "We need a ride." He sighed, his voice dropping to a low mumble. "And I don't think Sam's going to be up to walking anywhere anytime soon." He shifted Sam's weight onto Cas's shoulders and strode over to the car and climbed in the front seat, realising too late that the driver's seat was on the other side. He cursed as he reached over at an awkward angle to grasp the wires under the wheel. He missed Baby already.

* * *

Mary sat in the back seat with her son's head cradled on her lap. Castiel sat shotgun next to Dean. She had heard the two of them exchange words in hushed whispers, but she hadn't been able to tell what they had been saying. She carded her fingers through Sam's knotted hair and studied his face as they drove along. Dean had shown her a few pictures of them that he had on his cell phone, but the man next to her was barely recognisable. He had grown up handsome, that much she could tell, but even at rest there were tight lines of pain around the edges of his eyes. Purple bruises from lack of sleep shadowed his face, making him seem far older than his years. She combed some crusted blood out of his hair and turned to Dean in the front seat.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated. "What... What's he like?"

"Who, Sam?"

Mary made a noise of assent. Dean twisted in his seat and gazed thoughtfully at his brother for a moment before turning back round. A few seconds passed before he replied.

"He's smart. Like, freaky smart. Got into Stanford when he was 18 and got out of hunting for four years. Wanted to become a lawyer, white picket fence, the whole lot."

"He got out? Then why..." Mary's voice trailed off, unable to finish her question as thousands of possible scenarios ran through her head, each more terrible than the last. She saw Dean's shoulders tighten minutely and they sat in silence for a moment.

"I think it'd be best if Sam told you that himself," he quietly told her. Mary nodded in understanding and waited for Dean to continue.

"He's huge. A freaking giant, you saw. He was really little as a kid but then he just shot straight past me all of a sudden. I was so pissed." Dean chuckled. "Dad always said Sammy would grow up to be bigger than me. Guess he was right. Sam's also the best damn hunter out there, better than me, but don't ever tell him I said that."

Now it was Mary's turn to laugh. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell that Dean was smiling. She heard him give a small sigh. "We haven't exactly had it easy since you died, Sam especially. So much crap has gone his way and he's just taken it in his stride. I was supposed to keep him safe, it was my job to protect him, and I've failed so many times. And yet, after everything, he still manages to trust me."

The smile faded from Mary's face. "Dean... I know I haven't been here for you, but I can tell how much the two of you mean to each other. Whatever happened, whatever you did, you haven't failed Sam, and he'd be the first one to tell you that."

Dean grunted. "That's the problem. If there's one thing I know about Sam, it's that he'll always have my back, even if I don't always have his. Whatever I've said to him, whatever happens between us, I know he'll be there if I need him."

A comfortable silence fell over the group. Mary stared back down into Sam's beaten and bruised face, feeling like she was finally beginning to know him.

* * *

Dean checked the four of them into a cheap hotel next to a huge lake. So as to avoid arousing suspicion, Cas teleported with Sam up to their room, leaving Dean and Mary to climb up the four flights of stairs. Cas had laid Sam on the couch and was bent over him with a hand on his shoulder, brow furrowed in concentration.

"How is he?" Dean asked worriedly.

"He has suffered severe burns from what I believe to be a naked flame and several more from some form of electricity. There are multiple lacerations across his body from various sharp implements and the remnants of a mild sedative are still in his systems. The bullet wound to his left leg is also infected. I am able to heal his wounds but it will be a while before he wakes up."

"Those sons of bitches." Dean voice had grown quiet and there was a hard edge to it. He was glaring at the door like he was going to drive right back to Toni Bevell's house and murder them all. Which, given Dean's temperament and Sam's condition, was entirely possible.

"Dean," Mary warned. "Don't. Sam needs you here."

At the mention of his brother's name, all the fight seemed to leave Dan and he slumped down onto one of the beds, rubbing a hand across his face.

"I know. Okay, Cas, fix him up then we'll talk strategy."

Cas obliged, placing two fingers onto Sam's forehead. Instantly, all the wounds on Sam's body disappeared and his breathing evened out. The angel nodded in satisfaction and sat down on the other bed opposite Dean. Mary pulled up a chair in front of them and rested her head on a fist.

"What now?"

"Wait for Sam to get better, I guess," Dean started. "Then try and get more information about these British Men of Letters and what they wanted with us." He looked over at Cas and was surprised at the look of puzzlement on the angel's face.

"Cas?" He asked. "What's up?"

Cas started out of his reverie and looked up at Dean. "When we were driving here I felt a disturbance rip through the Veil. Some sort of supernatural energy is coming from the lake by the hotel and I fear for what it could mean. I must go-"

"Woah, Cas, slow down," Dean said, his voice rising. "You are NOT going there alone when we don't even know what we're up against."

"I will only be a moment. I can shield myself and scout out the area. If I need reinforcements, I will come back and get you immediately."

Dean still looked doubtful, but Mary laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dean," she reassured. "I'm sure Castiel knows what he's doing, and, besides, the more information we can get, the better."

"I still don't like it."

"Neither do I," Cas interjected. "But we need information and I believe this may hold some answers."

"Yeah, and probably a million more questions," Dean protested.

"Dean, I won't fight with you over it," Cas stated, before vanishing into thin air.

"Dammit," Dean grumbled, rising to his feet. "I wish he wouldn't do that." He paced the room a few times, muttering to himself about dumb angel and stupid lakes whilst Mary watched, amused.

* * *

They'd been waiting for two minutes and Dean was starting to get worried.

"This is taking too long," he fretted.

"He did say he was going to search the whole place," Mary pointed out.

"Yeah, but Cas can usually scout an entire town in about two seconds. Perks of being an angel, I guess."

"Well, maybe something there caught his attention," she tried.

"He said he'd come straight back if he needed help."

Mary was at a complete loss for words and was struggling to come up with a response when Sam stirred on the couch. Dean's face immediately took on a look of concern and he rushed over to his brother, all other worries forgotten.

"Sammy? You with me?"

The fog in Sam's eyes cleared slightly and he focused on Dean, his face a mask of confusion.

"Dean?" He asked in disbelief. "You can't be here. You're dead. Am I..."

"Nope, and neither am I little brother. Amara had a change of heart." Out of the corner of his eye, Dean spotted Mary begin to move closer to them. He subtly motioned for her to stay out; he wasn't sure Sam would be able to cope with her resurrection just yet. A look of hurt flashed across her face, but she quickly nodded in understanding and backed off.

"What happened?" Sam demanded. "What about the- the soul bomb and Chuck and the Darkness?" His eyes blew wide with panic and he clutched at Dean's shirt. "Dean, the Men of Letters. They know who we are, they-"

"Sam, relax," Dean reassured. "You're safe, we got you out. Cas is just out investigating a lead and the Men of Letters..." Dean's voice trailed off and he shook his head. "I don't know Sammy. They just let us go."

Sam frowned and he tried to push himself up from the couch. Dean placed a hand on his brother's chest and pushed him back down.

"Woah there, Sasquatch. You're not going anywhere," he berated when Sam continued to struggle.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam protested. When Dean refused to budge, Sam tried pushing his brother off him. "Dean, let me up. I-" Sam suddenly stilled as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He stared in disbelief at the figure slowly coming into focus in front of him. "Mom?"

* * *

Cas stared at the woman in front of him. She reminded him of his sisters in Heaven, but she wasn't an angel, nor was she human or demon. He squinted at her in distrust.

"Who are you?"

"Fear not," she said, her voice high and clear. "I only seek to help. The world is in danger, Castiel. You must help us to save it."

"How do you know who I am?"

She smiled faintly. "I know many things, although I suspect you do not know me. My name is Freya. I have watched over these shores for many centuries and I keep guard of the souls that reside in the Veil. I am responsible for helping them pass into the next life."

"You're a Reaper?" Cas asked incredulously.

"I suppose that is what you would call me," she mused. "But, no, I am not. I am known as the Lady of the Lake and I am the only one of my kind."

"Why do you need my help?"

"It is not I who will require your services. Return to this place at sunset tonight. They will be here."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Do I look like I'm lying to you? Dark things are stirring in the Veil; surely you have felt it too. If you do not do as I say, you and your friends will have no hope of defeating this new evil and the world will burn." Her voice grew quiet and soft. "Please."

Cas considered for a moment. If Freya was telling the truth then this was far bigger than anything they had ever experienced before. There was something in her earnest expression that compelled Cas to believe that was she was saying was true and, whilst this woman wasn't human, there was something deeply honest about her. He knew they had to do what she said.

"Very well," he sighed. "We will be here."

Freya smiled at him, then her form shimmered and faded into the air. Cas nervously twisted his hands into his coat and returned to the hotel.

* * *

 **A/N: Alright, we're getting close! I wanted to include the meeting in this chapter but then it would have been too long (I'm trying to keep each chapter to about 2000 words) so definitely next chapter. I'll update soon. Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay in the uploading of this chapter. Thanks to everyone who's read and particular thanks to MissScorp for your lovely long review.**

* * *

Chapter 7

All three of them jumped when Cas suddenly materialised before them. Dean leaped up from his spot on the couch and barged over to the angel, a murderous look on his face.

"The hell took you so long, Cas?" he demanded. "We were getting worried about you, man."

"I'm sorry Dean. There was this woman-"

"A woman? One of the Men of Letters?"

"No. She called herself Freya, the Lady of the Lake."

"Human?"

Cas hesitated. "I don't know. She appeared human but she sounded more like a Reaper from what she told me."

"What's a Reaper doing here? I mean, aside from the obvious, you know, reaping."

"She's not a Reaper."

"What? I'm sorry, could you make any less sense? Carry on like this and I might be in danger of actually understanding you."

"I don't know what she is," Cas explained. "She told me that she was the only one of her kind."

Dean sighed wearily, his patience wearing thin. "Dammit. I told you that this would only confuse us more than before. Did you get _anything_ useful?"

A look of hurt crossed Cas's face at the frustrated tone, but he knew that Dean didn't mean it. "I think so. She told me that the world is in great danger and we have to stop something before it destroys everything."

"Can't the world stay safe for five minutes without some new bastard threatening to blow it up?" Dean groaned.

"That's not all. According to Freya, we won't be alone. She said that we would have help, but not who from. We have to go back to the Lake at sunset."

"So we're relying on the word of some mystery woman who may or may not want to kill us and a couple of strangers that we've never met before to help us save the world?" Dean summed up. Cas inclined his head in assent. "Awesome."

Sam had been watching the conversation flit back and forth in silence, his brow furrowed in confusion. Clearly something was going on that Dean had neglected to tell him about. "Guys? What's going on?"

Both men, apparently lost in their thoughts, started and turned to face Sam and Mary. Cas smiled and reached out to clasp Sam's shoulder. The gesture, whilst awkward, made Sam grin; he had missed the angel and his odd little quirks.

"Sam," Cas said. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks for fixing me up, Cas. But seriously, what're you talking about?"

"Something strange is going on here. We don't know what yet but we're hoping to find out more when we go back to meet these other people."

"Woah," Dean interjected, holding out his hands in protest. "You telling me you're actually buying this crap?"

Cas shot him a glare. "I'm telling you, Dean, this woman was being honest. She had no ill intentions towards me or anyone else."

Dean glared back. The pair of them stood like that for some time, before Mary cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Well, we'd better start getting ready," she said, pointing out of the window. The sun was already quite low in the sky and it was painted with streaks of red and gold. Dean cursed and scrambled to grab his gun.

"Alright, Cas, I'm trusting you on this one. I just hope you're right," he said, heading to the door. Sam and Mary made to follow him, but his held up a hand. "It would be best if just me and Cas took this one."

"What?" Sam protested. "Dean-"

"You just got off from being tortured, Sam," Dean all but yelled. "And I can't drag Mom into this too."

Sam opened his mouth to argue further but Mary beat him to it. "Too late. What, do you expect me to just sit here whilst you run off somewhere? I'm not made of glass, Dean."

Dean looked down at the floor. "I can't lose you, not again."

"You won't," Mary assured him, reaching up to stroke his face. "I grew up a hunter, remember? I can handle myself out there."

"And Cas fixed me," Sam added. "I'm fine to hunt, and you know I've done more on worse."

Dean sighed in frustration. He wanted to argue against them, but he knew they had a point. Besides, when had he ever been able to stop Sam from doing what he wanted? He had a feeling his mom would be exactly the same. "Fine," he ground out. "But if things go south, we get out, deal?"

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. Mary followed suit and Dean turned to Cas. "Can you take us there? It'll be quicker that way."

The angel nodded. "Join hands," he instructed. Once they had all done so, Cas closed his eyes and concentrated on the spot he had met Freya earlier. With a flutter of wings, they were gone.

* * *

Merlin watched the ripples of the water as it flowed around his feet. He wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to stand in the Lake, only that it had felt right to do so at the time. He jumped as he heard a loud crack coming from the trees behind him and almost went to investigate but, at that same moment, the water started churning and bubbling around him and a large whirlpool formed at it's centre. A ringing sound filled the area and Merlin clapped his hands to his ears in a vain attempt to block it out, but it was as loud as ever. Suddenly, a column of white light exploded from the centre of the Lake, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut as it began to burn his eyelids. The ringing intensified and it hurt and this wasn't how it was supposed to go, Arthur was supposed to meet him here, everything was supposed to get better. It was a mercy when he finally passed out.

It was dark when he woke, lying drenched and shivering on the riverbank. He blearily opened his eyes and, when his eyesight finally adjusted, jumped at the sight of a dark figure bending over him. A lock of blond hair glinted white in the moonlight and Merlin shot upright in relief as he recognised the man before him.

"Arthur!" he cried, almost smacking his friend in the nose with his sudden movement. He scrambled to his feet and tried to pull Arthur into a hug but he brushed off Merlin's hands and stepped back, a scowl marring his features.

"Get off me, Merlin. What the hell is going on?"

Merlin's brow furrowed in confusion. "Arthur... What's the last thing you remember?"

"Camlann. Mordred stabbed me and then I woke up in a forest. You..." Arthur's eyes blew wide. "You have magic," he gasped.

"I've only used it for good, Arthur, I promise," Merlin pleaded desperately, determined not to repeat the argument that had almost estranged him from the young king forever. "Look!" He held out his hand and whispered " _ácolitus._ " A bright light flared in his palm and hovered in mid-air, illuminating the scene below it. Merlin looked over at Arthur; his eyes were narrowed and brows pinched, but he seemed more confused than angry.

"I know," Arthur replied uncertainly. "I remember pain and then nothing, until I woke up in the water with you next to me."

"You died, Arthur. It's been over 1000 years since then."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Merlin opened his mouth to explain but the sound of a gun being cocked behind them stopped him short.

"Hands in the air."

* * *

Mary crouched in the bushes surrounding the lake. Sam and Dean were next to her and Castiel was invisible somewhere. A bright white light had flared up minutes before and Mary had felt both the boys stiffen beside her. They had had a hurried conversation, of which she had only managed to catch the words 'Cage' and 'Lucifer', but none of it had sounded any good. The young man - although he wasn't more than a boy really - in the water was knocked unconscious and Dean had been all for charging down there and catching him unawares but it hadn't felt right to Mary so she had insisted they stay. Sure enough, another figure appeared after the light had died and started dragging the other to the riverbank and was now trying to rouse him. It was too dark to see much of either of them but the awake one seemed to be wearing what Mary swore was some sort of armour from the way it glinted in the moonlight.

Eventually the young man came round and almost knocked the other one flying as he tackled him in a hug. Mary was glad she had stopped Dean from killing him; what sort of monsters behaved like that? The two were having a hurried conversation that Mary couldn't hear and then the dark-haired one's eyes flashed gold and a light flared up from the palm of his hand. All of Mary's fears returned in full force at the sight and she could tell that it had affected Sam and Dean too. She crawled over to them, a lump forming in her throat.

"Did his eyes just-" she whispered.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "I don't get why or how but it looks like our old friend's come back to haunt us."

"I thought you killed him?"

"Apparently not dead enough. Well Cas, looks like you were wrong about this one."

Castiel appeared in the shadows next to them, making them all jump. His brows were furrowed in confusion and he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I don't understand. I was so sure-"

"Well, happens to the best of us," Dean cut in. He clapped the angel on the shoulder. "Hey, man, if I had a dollar for every time a woman lied to me I'd..."

Mary frowned at her son as his voice faded out. He looked down at his feet in embarrassment and cleared his throat. "Anyway, all in favour of ganking these suckers?"

Something about this whole business still didn't seem right to Mary, and it was clear Castiel felt the same way, but she reluctantly agreed and they headed quietly down the bank, Dean taking the lead and Sam bringing up the rear. Mary spotted Dean sliding his gun out of the waistband of his jeans and prayed to God that they were right about this

* * *

"Hands in the air," Dean demanded. He almost faltered as they turned round to face him; the boy had a look of abject terror and innocence in his eyes, but Dean remembered those same eyes flashing gold just a few moments ago and steadied his grip. "What do you want with us, you sick bastard?"

"I don't-"

"Save it. We know who you are. I don't know how or why you crawled back from wherever you've been these past years but I'm warning you now: I will kill you again, and this time I'll finish the job."

Dean had the satisfaction of seeing him step back in horror, but his companion pushed in front of him. The light from the floating orb sparked off his strange armour and he was brandishing a ridiculously long sword, which Dean had to admit was kind of impressive.

"If anyone's killing my manservant, it's me. Retreat now and I might go a little easy on you."

Dean scoffed. "Right. Sorry pal, not gonna-"

"Dean," Cas interrupted, shoving to the front of the group. "This boy isn't Azazel, or any kind of demon for that matter. I believe they are here to help us."

"Azazel?" The dark haired man questioned. "I don't know anyone by that name. I'm Merlin."

* * *

 **A/N: Yay, they've finally met! How were the interactions? I wanted to make this scene longer but that damn word count was creeping up on me. I've gone over as it is. Oh well. Please tell me your thoughts and I'll update soon. Bye!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: It's been a long time, I know, and I'm very sorry for that. Things like exams and little depressive episodes have kept me away. Thanks to Allen92909, JGVFHL, Grayswandir, SlytherinSpider and Ezza555 for your wonderful reviews.**

 **Quick note: It was brought to my attention that last chapter wasn't that great so I have gone back and edited it.**

* * *

Chapter 8

Dean stared incredulously at the young man in front of him, refusing to lower his gun. " _Merlin_?" he asked. "What sort of a name is that?"

"I.. uh," Merlin spluttered.

"Whatever. Look, if you're not a demon, what are you? An angel? Witch? Some other freak?"

Merlin looked affronted and held up a hand in protest. He was about to speak when a spluttering sound came from behind him and they all turned to see the blonde man shaking with laughter.

"Arthur," Merlin moaned. "It's not funny."

"Oh, lighten up a little Merlin. You know, I always said you were a girl."

Merlin sighed in frustration but Dean could see the corners of his mouth tugging up in a small smile. "I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it."

Dean, who had been barely following the conversation as it was, grabbed Merlin by the shoulder and spun him round to face him. "I don't know what's going on here, but I swear to God if you don't tell us who you are I will empty this into your face."

"Dean-" Cas interjected, but Dean silenced him with a glare.

"Well?" he prompted.

Merlin sagged a little in Dean's grasp and stared at the wet grass. "My name is Merlin, and this dollophead is Arthur. I'm a warlock, or sorcerer, and he's my king. We came from Camelot thousands of years ago and now some great evil is threatening this world so Arthur has returned to defeat it." He looked up suddenly and met Dean's hard eyes. "I was promised others would be here, and I've been dreaming about all of you for days now. Have you come to help us?"

Dean let go of Merlin and folded his arms, studying the young man. He didn't seem like your typical witch, but then again they could look like anyone. "Been dreaming about us huh? Sounds kinky. Dreaming what exactly?"

Merlin pointed at Sam. "He was in a basement somewhere. Someone was torturing him; I must say I am relieved to see you here and well." He turned back to Dean, his brows furrowing a little. "And the rest of you were searching for him. But you were in America and now you're here. How?"

"Doesn't matter," Dean said brusquely. Everything this guy had said had happened which only gave Dean more reason not to trust them. Plus, the sword, whilst awesome, the other guy was carrying didn't seem particularly friendly. Still, Dean had gotten pretty good at reading faces over the years and there was something in Merlin's eyes that told him he was telling the truth. He met Sam's eyes and nodded to a group of trees a little ways away. Telling Mary and Cas to keep an eye on them, he strode off, knowing Sam was behind him.

* * *

Once they were out of earshot, Dean turned to his brother. "What do you think?"

"I think we should trust them," Sam said. "They seem friendly enough."

"Dude, did you see the other guy? The- The armour and the sword? How does any of that scream 'friendly' to you?"

Sam shuffled uncomfortably, glancing back to the group. "Look, Dean, that guy said his name was Merlin, right?"

"Right."

"And he called the other guy Arthur."

"I'm not following."

"They said they were from Camelot. Haven't you heard the legend? That when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again?"

"Yeah, but those are just stories. Like the ones in that book you had when you were little."

Sam smiled a little at the memory but then his voice turned serious again. "Dean, if there's one thing we've learnt, it's that all legends have a source and most are true. Is it so hard to believe this one is too? I mean, all the information fits."

Dean frowned, still unconvinced. "Okay, but come on. You trying to tell me that this short, skinny guy is some sort of all powerful 'warlock'? And his friend is an ancient king from medieval times who died thousands of years ago only to come back again?"

Sam inclined his head and nodded. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but he saw the logic in what Sam was saying and, besides, it was hardly the craziest thing they'd seen in the past few years. "Fine. We'll trust them. But if this goes sideways, I'm blaming your sorry ass."

Sam grinned and the two headed back to meet the others. Dean tried to feel positive but, despite his brother's reassurances, he still had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

* * *

Arthur frowned in distrust at the four people before him. The short one was holding a strange silver weapon to Merlin's head and Arthur was tempted to attack him, but something told him the other man's strange instrument would be much quicker than Excalibur. He was also confused by their attire; each of them wore many layers of clothing made out of some odd material. He got the distinct impression that they were all warriors of some sort, perhaps even knights, and they had all seen many battles yet none wore any armour. The woman confused him more; what sort of king allowed a woman to fight for him? It wasn't unheard of for a woman to fight, and he remembered how competent both Morgause and Morgana had been, but they were never allowed into an army like this one surely was.

Once the one with the weapon had walked away with the tall one, Arthur turned to Merlin and tapped his shoulder. "What is going on, Merlin?" he asked.

Merlin flushed a brilliant red, like he had forgotten Arthur was there, which was a ridiculous thought. He made several gestures with his hands but no words came out; an old habit from the days of Camelot that had annoyed Arthur no end. He was finding it no less irritating now. " _What_ , Merlin?"

"Well, you see, Arthur, just after you died, the Dragon gave me a prophecy. He-"

"The Dragon?" Arthur interrupted, frowning slightly. "I thought I'd killed him."

"Ah. Yes. About that-"

"You can tell me later. Carry on."

"He said that when the world needed you most, you would return. But he didn't say when, so I've been waiting for years. A few weeks ago I started dreaming about these people and then Freya came to me and told me thing were stirring in the Veil. I think she sent you back to kill it, but she also told me that we would need help doing so. I don't know how these people knew to come here but-"

"Freya contacted us, also," a gravelly voice from Arthur's left said. He turned to see a blue-eyed man with some sort of brown cloak on stood next to them. Arthur faced him coldly but, before he could say anything, Merlin gasped and pointed at the man.

"Who are you?" he asked wonderingly. The strange man tilted his head, confused.

"My name is Castiel," he began.

"No, I mean _what_ are you?" Merlin corrected. Arthur stared at him; there seemed to be nothing wrong with this man. Indeed, he was much friendlier than the other one had been. However, Castiel's face cleared and he nodded in understanding.

"I'm an angel," he replied.

"An- An angel?" Apparently even Merlin was struggling to understand this, which was a small comfort to Arthur. "I suppose that explains those wings."

Arthur's brows knitted as he stared at Merlin; he could see no wings, and apparently Castiel felt the same way as he wore the same confused expression he had a few moments ago.

"How can you see those?" Castiel asked.

"I... can't. Not really anyway. It's like the air is distorted around them. Like a mirage," Merlin slowly explained. Or not; if anything, it left Arthur more confused than before. He sighed and pushed his way between the two, forcing the attention back to him.

"Merlin, I demand you explain right now," he commanded.

Merlin sighed wearily. "It's a long story," he started but, at that moment, the other two men came back. Arthur glared at them but said nothing as they quickly took charge.

"I'd like to hear that story too," the shorter one said. He pointed at Merlin. "Have you got anywhere we could hole up for a while?"

Arthur scoffed, about to tell them that Merlin was far too poor to afford much more than two rooms, let alone somewhere large enough for six people, but he was once again surprised.

"Yeah," Merlin said reluctantly. "It's not far."

* * *

It had been a strange day for Mary. First she had been teleported to another continent by an angel (an actual, real angel), then rescued her 30 year old son (who had been just 6 months the last time she had seen him) and now they were apparently in the company of a centuries old warlock and a young king recently returned from the dead. Life as a hunter had forced her to get used to all kinds of crazy, but she wasn't sure she could take much more today without her head threatening to explode.

She knew, of course, about Camelot and Merlin and King Arthur; she had bought Dean a book of Arthurian legends for his third birthday. She was just struggling to believe they were actually real - and far different to anything she had pictured. Merlin was supposed to be an old man yet here he was: an innocent young boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and answered to 'manservant'. And Arthur...

Arthur appeared to be every inch the stoic king on the surface, but underneath Mary could see a broken boy who had been handed too much all at once. She saw that look in her sons, and in Merlin, but it was clearest in Arthur. He looked so very lost in this new time so she fell into step beside him as they followed Merlin to his house.

"It must be difficult for you," she began. Arthur looked curiously at her and a thoughtful expression came over his face.

"Yes," he replied after a few seconds. "I used to walk this land freely with my knights and now I cannot recognise it." He sighed sadly. "The world is much changed."

Mary smiled ruefully. "Tell me about it. I haven't been gone for as long as you, but even 33 years is enough to make the world unrecognisable to me."

"So you are not from this time either?" Arthur asked. He gazed at her for a moment then nodded his head firmly. "You remind me of my mother," he informed her.

"How?" Mary asked, touched.

"I can't say, not exactly. My mother died when I was a baby but I heard stories of her kindness and her bravery from my father and other nobles. She was a good woman, and I think you are too."

They walked in silence from there. Mary thought about what Arthur had told her and realised that his upbringing wouldn't have been much different to that of Sam and Dean - learning to fight as soon as they could walk, being told stories of a dead mother by a grieving father, becoming hardened warriors by their teens, it all felt very familiar. She knew Dean still had his misgivings about trusting these two strangers, but Mary knew in her heart that they had made the right decision.

* * *

 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed that! Please leave a review if you have a moment and I will update as quick as possible! Bye!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am aware that it's been a month since my last update but I have been ridiculously busy with school work, as I will be for the next few months. My post schedule might be a bit erratic as a result, but I'm not giving up on this story.**

 **Thanks to Photogirl5520113, Larien Jenova, even0211, ashuri-chan24 and Ezza555 for your review. I'm so pleased you're enjoying this story as much as I am!**

 **even0211 - I hope this chapter clears up any doubts about what you asked me**

* * *

Chapter 9

Cas felt the change in the air as they approached Merlin's house. He stepped forward cautiously and was pleased to discover that he wasn't locked out by any warding. He squinted at the walls of the house, but couldn't detect any sigils, cloaked or otherwise.

"There is great power surrounding this place," he said, turning to the young sorcerer. "It is like nothing I have encountered before."

"Just a few simple cloaking spells," Merlin explained dismissively. "I picked them up in the 1800s after one too many run ins with unfriendly forces."

"Oh, man, you're gonna have to teach me those," Dean commented, coming up beside them. Cas spotted Merlin giving him a curious look before unlocking the door and beckoning them inside. Books and papers were scattered everywhere and there were paint splatters on every surface. Cas picked his way across the clutter to a corner where an easel was set up; a canvas resting on it was coloured in splashes of red and gold with a dragon at the centre. He reached down and picked up two other canvases, studying them intently.

"These are very beautiful," he murmured admiringly.

Merlin shrugged, though his eyes were fixed on Arthur. "I had to find something to kill a thousand years with."

An uneasy silence fell across the room, broken only by the clanking of Arthur's armour as he moved. Cas shifted awkwardly and glanced at Dean in the hope that he could do something to diffuse the tension; he had never been good in social situations. Dean cleared his throat and clapped his hands together.

"Well, how about the Tin Man over there gets himself cleaned up and we set a few things straight, huh?" he proposed.

"What did he call me?" Arthur indignantly interjected. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Right. Keep forgetting you've only just popped out the casket. Wizard of Oz?"

"Which kingdom is this? Merlin, do you know this so-called wizard?"

"It doesn't matter," Merlin said reassuringly. "I've got some dry clothes in the spare room and you guys can dump your stuff in one of the other bedrooms if you want."

"Fine. Meet back here in thirty?"

Merlin winced, eyeing Arthur's expectant stance. "Better make it an hour."

* * *

Merlin's house wasn't the Bunker, but it was still far more comfortable than any place they'd stayed in before, including the hotel they'd holed up in before heading down to the Lake. Dean whistled in appreciation as they headed down the hallway to find a place to stow their gear. Not that it was difficult - Merlin had about as many spare bedrooms as the Bunker, and they were all pretty big too. He caught Sam's arm as they passed each other in the corridor.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly.

"Dean, this place is amazing. He's got lore books, spell books, things with magic I've never even seen before. I think maybe we could use some of this with hunting."

"Of course you do, you big nerd," Dean sighed. Sam frowned and shook his head, looking like he was about to argue his case further but Dean cut him off; they had more important things to be discussing.

"So I'm guessing you're still buying the whole 'let's be friends' thing then?"

"Why wouldn't I? With power like this... let's just say that if he wanted us dead, we'd be dead."

"Yeah, I know," Dean grudgingly agreed. "Alright, first things first, we've gotta find out who this guy is. We know all the stories, but how accurate have those been this far? No, I want to hear this for myself."

"Yeah. But Dean... Be nice."

Dean frowned in confusion. "I'm always nice."

"Right," Sam said sceptically. "What I mean is, don't go setting Arthur off. He's only just got back and he will take a swing at you."

"Mom's been alright hasn't she?"

"Yeah, but that was 33 years, not over a thousand, and she knows you. He doesn't."

"Relax, Sammy," Dean said, grinning at his brother. "They'll love me."

* * *

"I don't understand why I have to wear these peasant clothes, Merlin," Arthur whined.

"Because that's how you'll fit in here," Merlin patiently told him, for the fifth time.

"With who? Those other people with the odd accents? I'd rather not."

"No, with the 21st century. No one dresses like we used to anymore, and there's not such a big divide between the people. Well, there is, but you're with us now, right down at the bottom of the pile. And those other people are Americans, and they are friends. Now, hurry up. We need to go."

Merlin saw Arthur bristle slightly at his words, but to his relief he said nothing and strode out the room without a backward glance. Merlin shook his head fondly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Clotpole," he muttered, before following Arthur to the front room.

* * *

"So, what do you want to know?" Merlin asked nervously.

"Okay, first of all, why the hell do you have so many rooms in this place?"

"Dean-" Sam started, exasperated.

"No, I'm serious. C'mon dude, you're just one guy. I'm all for personal space, but really?"

Merlin chewed on his lip, unable to meet their stares. "I'd hoped that when Arthur returned the other would too. I wanted to make sure I had space for them just-" his voice caught slightly and he took a deep breath to stop the tears. "Just in case, you know?"

"Oh," Dean said, taken aback slightly. "I'm, er, I'm sorry about that. Okay, how about you tell us what's going on here? All I came here to do is rescue my brother and suddenly I'm caught up in some fantasy novel?"

"I don't know what's going on," Merlin replied honestly. "All I know is what Freya has told me, and I trust her to steer me along the right path."

"Right, because she's been so forthcoming with information up to this point. I don't even know who the hell this chick is and you want me to trust her? No."

"Yes," Merlin insisted. "You don't know her, but I do and she would never do anything that would hurt me. She meant something to me back in Camelot and I would give anything to have her here again to tell me what to do. But I cannot, so I have to trust that she has told me all she can and I expect you to too." Merlin glared over at Dean and waited for a snappy retort, but none was forthcoming. Sam looked back and forth between the two and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Alright! Glad we got past that. Why don't we start with introductions? I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean, that's our mom, Mary, and our friend is Castiel."

Merlin rubbed at his eyes and nodded. "You already know us; I'm Merlin and he's Arthur."

" _King_ Arthur," Arthur interrupted smugly.

"Not anymore," Merlin muttered before turning back to Sam. "How is it that you're okay? As recently as last night I was dreaming about you in that basement, yet you have no marks on you."

"Perks of having an angel as your best friend," Sam shrugged. "Cas fixed me up, then we came down to meet you."

"Yeah, what's the deal with the dreams?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I presume they're from Freya, but I can't know for sure."

"Hey, do you know anything about the British Men of Letters?" Sam asked him earnestly. Merlin stiffened, long ago memories flashing through his mind.

"I've come across them once or twice. Why do you ask?"

A silent conversation ensued between the two brothers, consisting of glares and violent hand gestures. Merlin watched as Dean sighed and sat back whilst Sam, apparently the victor, nodded triumphantly and turned back to face him.

"They were the ones keeping me in that cellar. They wanted information on Dean and me but I refused to give it to them. Which, as you probably noticed, didn't make them very happy. How do you know them?"

"Remember I mentioned the reason for the spells out front? They caught up to me in the 1800s thinking I was some run-of-the-mill supernatural freak. They captured me and almost killed me, but I managed to escape and I've pretty much been hiding from them ever since. Then, about seven years ago, they found me again, I don't know how, and acted all nice like. They told me about some massive surge in supernatural activity, which I already knew about, and asked for my help in getting rid of some of the bigger players. I said no of course... What?" he asked, noting Sam and Dean's guilty looks. "What's wrong?"

Dean laughed nervously. "Seven years ago, you say?"

"Yes. Why... Do you know something?"

"That surge in monster activity? Yeah, we might have caused that. Tell me something, Merlin - have there been any other... increases recently?"

"Um... Demonic possessions rose in 2007, and I heard something about angels falling in 2013, although I didn't believe it at the time," he added, with a sideways glance at Castiel. "And then just last year there were loads of strange deaths, but I couldn't figure out what was causing them. But you know, don't you?"

Sam and Dean were both visibly uncomfortable by this point, shifting awkwardly in their seats. Merlin saw them wilt under the sharp gazes of everyone in the room and felt some sort of satisfaction at the sight; for all Dean's bravado and tough act, he was just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

"Dean, we've gotta tell him," Sam mumbled.

"Wait, were you boys involved in all this?" Mary asked in disbelief. Sam looked up at her with wide eyes and nodded slightly; she made a choked noise and her hand flew to her mouth.

"We should have told you before, but things kind of spun out of control. The demonic possessions happened after a Devil's Gate opened in Wyoming, which we did close but not before thousands of demons escaped from Hell. But, Mom..." Sam hesitated slightly and looked down at the floor. "Dad got out then too."

Mary brushed away some tears and smiled slightly. "Okay, that's... okay. What else?"

"Seven years ago was because I let Lucifer out of his Cage. He killed so many people before we could shove him back in and it was all my fault. Don't worry though; I more than paid for it," he said wryly. Dean looked like he was about to argue, but Sam held up a hand to stop him. "Later." He went to carry on speaking, but Cas interrupted hi,

"The angels falling happened because I allowed myself to be tricked and influenced down the wrong path. I believed I was doing the right thing but..." Castiel sighed deeply. "I was wrong. We _all_ were."

* * *

Once Castiel had finished talking, Merlin slumped back into his seat with a sigh. If they were telling the truth, which Merlin knew them to be, then he dreaded to think what this new evil could bring. If Sam and Dean had fought against Lucifer, and angels, and demons then how could something possibly be bigger than those? It was going to be a long, hard fight, and Merlin was starting to get the feeling that maybe not all of them would make it out this time.

He sighed again and stifled a yawn, forcing himself to his feet. "Look," he started, glancing round at the exhausted faces of the rest of the group. "We're all tired; why don't we pick this up later. You're welcome to stay in the other rooms for as long as you need them."

No one said anything, but slowly the other picked themselves up and trudged wearily off to their respective rooms. Merlin stared after them and rubbed a hand over his face, wishing more than ever that he had Gaius or Freya there to guide him.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not as happy as I could be with this chapter. Not a lot of action, but it's important we have stuff like this, right? I already have parts of chapter 10 written down so hopefully that will be posted ASAP. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you have a moment. Bye!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'M SO SORRY! I want to start getting out chapters a lot quicker now I'm on summer break but I won't promise anything because I obviously can't keep promises. Anyway...**

 **Thanks to Scarlettwolf, hi, cmr2014 and Lil One 529 for the reviews! I really appreciate them!**

 **Scarlettwolf: I am very glad you like the story and thank you for your advice. Sorry that some previous chapters seemed rushed. I'm done editing them so they'll stay as they are, but I'll keep in mind what you said in future.**

 **hi: I'm glad you like the story and yes I am continuing it! I'm loving writing it and I will not give up, no matter how long it takes me.**

* * *

"Sam..." Hot breath tickled Sam's cheek as a quiet voice whispered in his ear. "Come on Sam, wake up."

Sam groggily opened his eyes and lurched back in panic as he saw who was standing over him - or tried to; he was tightly bound to the bed.

"Now, now, let's not be like that," Toni chastised. "Just a few more questions and then it will all go away."

"No. No. Dean! Dean, he- argh!" Sam yelled as Toni pressed a sharp object into his side. She tutted softly, tracing the weapon across his skin. "Really Sam. I thought we were past all this unpleasantness."

"Screw you."

"I should've known better," she continued, as though Sam had never spoken in the first place. "You American hunters are a disgusting breed. Still, my superiors think that some of you could be helped, and they think that you pair are the key to it."

Sam laughed mirthlessly. "Really? Dean and I don't exactly have that wide a social circle."

"That's not what we care about. We need to know how your country got in such a state. You see, we understand that you and your brother are legends in America. Hunters admire you. So we think that understanding you will unlock the doorway to all America's hunters." Toni smiled wickedly.

"You seriously think they'll help you? You're stupider than you look."

"For what it's worth, I'd rather kill the whole lot of you, but someone needs to take care of the situation in America, and we can't spare the men to do it. So. I want information on your contacts; names, locations, specialities, anything that comes to mind. Oh, and do tell me about how you ardently abused your psychic powers to the point of starting the Apocalypse."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing to come up with a plan to escape. "How did you find me?"

"Please. Did you really just think we'd just let you go? I ought to thank you for leading us to that warlock; the Men of Letters have been after him for a long time. Now then, information."

"No."

Toni let out a snarl and suddenly lashed out, cutting a deep gash across Sam's chest. He cried out and tried to jerk away, but the bonds kept him in place. "Then let's see if I can't change your mind," she muttered darkly.

* * *

Toni sat back and wiped Sam's blood off her blade, sighing impatiently. "This act is getting you nowhere. We know your brother's alive, which means you lied to us before-"

"Didn't... know..." he panted. Toni shrugged.

"I don't care. Besides, we have plenty more to talk about, don't we?" She grinned and dug the tip of her knife into one of the fresher wounds. "For example, your role in setting not one, but two primordial beings free from their cages to wreak havoc on the world. Or consenting to two angels taking control over your body, both times ending in a trail of bodies in your wake. How about your failed attempt to close the gates of Hell? Am I shaking anything loose yet?"

Sam flinched back as her words struck home. "You already know everything you need to know."

"I disagree. In order to set things straight, we need to understand _you_ so we can adapt to how American hunters see things. We could use other sources, of course, but you and Dean have been at the centre of almost every supernatural disaster in America for the past decade. I can't help but feel like you'd be our best port of call for information on them." She sighed long-sufferingly and glanced almost pityingly over at him. "Why do you insist upon this... this defiance? We just want to help."

Sam, too tired to reply, turned his head away. Toni was tame in comparison to Lucifer but that didn't mean the torture didn't hurt like a bitch. She frowned for a moment then nodded decisively. "Well, then," she said brightly. "We have the whole night ahead of us. Let's have some fun." She leered over him, grinning wickedly, and Sam's eyes widened in horror as her face shimmered and melted into Lucifer's features. "Hey there bunk buddy."

* * *

Dean awoke with a start as screams echoed through the house. His sleep addled brain took a moment to catch up, but when he realised where the sounds were coming from he was up and out the door before he had time to think about it. He ran the short distance down the hall to where Sam was sleeping, just barely catching himself on the door frame as he skidded to a halt, and shot to his thrashing brother's bedside, hovering uncertainly as he debated whether to wake him or not. He was still deciding when Sam suddenly shot upright with a loud gasp, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. His hands shot to his chest and he began to claw desperately at the skin there. Dean, fearing that he could do some real damage to himself, reached over quickly and grabbed Sam's wrists, causing him to look up.

"Sam! Sammy, it's just me, it's just me, you need to calm down, okay? Come on, Sam, focus on me," he encouraged quietly. A tense few seconds passed before Sam's breathing slowed down and he focused on Dean's face, slumping back down onto the pillows. They lapsed into silence as Dean studied the tense lines around his brother's eyes and the slight tremors that spread over his body every so often. He sat down on the floor with his back against a dresser and turned his head towards Sam.

"Wanna tell me what that was about?" he asked, not expecting an answer. Unsurprisingly, Sam wordlessly shook his head and continued to stare at the ceiling. Dean heard footsteps outside and looked over to see Mary standing in the doorway with her gun held loosely in one hand. She was looking sadly at Sam, and Dean could swear he saw tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," she whispered. "I went to head off Merlin and Arthur; told them this was something we could handle ourselves." She walked a couple of paces into the room, but stopped abruptly, glancing at Dean uncertainly. He nodded and she sat down on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on Sam's leg. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry."

Sam shifted at that and turned to face Mary. "Not your fault," he mumbled. He attempted to sit up, but both Mary and Dean pushed him back down firmly.

"Get some rest, Sam," Mary told him firmly. "I'll see you in the morning." She headed out and back to her own room, smiling sadly over her shoulder at the pair of them. Dean raised a hand then shifted his position to get more comfortable as there was no way he would be leaving his brother alone, not tonight. A look over at Sam told him that neither of them would be getting anymore sleep; his brother's eyes might be closed but Dean knew there was no way Sam would let himself rest in case of any more nightmares.

* * *

Morning came eventually, and with it came the smell of bacon frying. Merlin danced around the kitchen, juggling several pans and appliances as he cooked up a full English for his guests.

"I didn't know you could cook."

Merlin whirled round at the voice, almost dropping the tin of tomatoes he had been holding. He grinned at Arthur before turning back to the hob. "I didn't know you got up before ten," he shot back.

"Couldn't sleep," Arthur quietly admitted.

Merlin sighed. "Guess that makes six of us then. Castiel informed me that he apparently doesn't sleep, and I heard the others moving around and talking." He cleared his throat and noticed Arthur's awkward stance. "Help me with this?"

Between the two of them (mostly Merlin, but that was usual) breakfast was set up within 15 minutes, and ten minutes later the others started trickling in. There were dark circles under all their eyes, particularly Sam's, and Merlin guessed he wasn't much better by the knowing looks that were being thrown his way. They picked at their food in silence, with the exception of Arthur, who ate like he hadn't in... Well, in millennia.

"This food tastes very different to what he had in Camelot, although it looks very similar," he remarked curiously.

"The joys of modern technology. You'll get used to it."

Arthur hummed non-committally and turned back to his plate, piling it high with seconds. Merlin twisted his hands together and tried to figure out how to phrase his next proposition but, before he could, Dean interrupted him by pointing his knife and fixing him with a stern glare.

"You gonna tell me what you're chewing over or am I going to have to beat it outta you?"

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam admonished, glaring tiredly at his brother and swatting his arm.

"What? I _was_ joking, but clearly he's got something to say."

"Yeah, but-"

"It's okay." Merlin gathered his courage and looked at Sam. "I'm guessing you had a nightmare last night."

Dean's face darkened and Merlin's palms started sweating at the very real possibility that Dean would start throwing punches in his direction. "That's none of your business," he snapped.

"Please." Merlin raised his hands placatingly. "I think I can help."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Back in Camelot one of our... friends," he started, glancing guiltily at Arthur. "She suffered from nightmares so Gaius - the court physician -" (Dean snickered slightly at that part) "made her a potion to dispel them. It worked quite well, for a time anyway. I have some stored up if you wanted to try it?"

"What do you mean, 'for a time'?" Dean questioned.

"Our friend-"

"Morgana was no friend of ours," Arthur interrupted angrily, glaring at Merlin. Merlin held his gaze coolly and sighed.

"She was, once."

A tense silence settled over the group for a moment, broken only by the sound of Arthur violently shoving his chair back, rising, and stalking out the room. Merlin sighed softly and stared into his lap, unwilling to meet the raised eyebrows and unwelcome - and unspoken - questions of the others. He had never forgiven himself for allowing Morgana to get so desperate she turned to dark magic and vengeance and he didn't believe he ever would. She had asked him to help her and he could have done, but he chose to cast her away and protect himself, dooming Arthur and Camelot by extension. But it wasn't that realisation that stung the most. He had loved Morgana and maybe - _maybe **-**_ she had loved him too but that hadn't mattered in the end, because he had driven her away and she grew to hate him.

He never forgot the look in her eyes when he had driven Excalibur through her, as it had reminded him of her face when he had poisoned her to stop Morgause's attack on the city - it was betrayal and pain and heartbreak. It was because of that look that he couldn't bear to leave her to rot on the forest floor as he perhaps should have done. It was because of that look that he had taken her and buried her next to Mordred's grave, a league or so away from Camlann. It was because of that look that he had shed a few tears over the task, and was dangerously close to doing so again.

Merlin shook himself slightly and rose from his seat, clearing his throat. "I'll go and fetch some for you anyway," he declared, hating how his voice shook. "You can use it if you want and if you don't... keep it anyway. I have plenty."

He turned on his heel and strode purposefully out the room, lifting a hand to brush away the few traitorous tears that had begun to snake their way down his cheeks.

* * *

Dean let out a long sigh. "Well that wasn't weird at all."

"They were both behaving extremely oddly," Cas agreed, inclining his head in Dean's direction.

"They mentioned Morgana, right?" Mary's brows furrowed in confusion. "Wasn't she the evil sorceress who worked _against_ King Arthur and Camelot? Yet he called her a friend? Or, that she was," she amended.

Sam shrugged. "Guess the history became a bit skewed over the years. Wouldn't be the first time the lore hasn't quite matched up."

"Yeah, well, that makes me wonder if she's going to be involved in this now. Whatever _this_ is," Dean inputted. "I mean, if King Righteous managed to make it back here, wouldn't it make sense that she'd claw her way out of whatever doorway was created? What even was she to him anyway? Archenemy?" He snorted softly. "Some lover who got pissed because he ditched her?"

Sam opened his mouth, presumably to reprimand Dean, or spout more nerdy facts about the legend, but a soft laugh from the doorway interrupted him. Merlin stood there with a vaguely amused expression on his pale face. "You're not far off there," he remarked, making his way back to the table and easing himself into his chair. "Morgana was supposed to marry Arthur at one point, but she was having none of it. There was also the issue of her being his half-sister-"

Dean choked loudly and looked at Merlin incredulously. Merlin smirked at his expression, amusement lighting up his eyes and continued - "Which we didn't know at the time. But they were always more like siblings anyway, and Arthur was so clearly in love with Gwen that anyone who had eyes knew that Arthur and Morgana would never have worked out." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips and his eyes were focused on a point in the distance, something akin to wistfulness dancing in them.

He blinked suddenly and turned his attention back to the group of hunters. "In answer to your question, Morgana won't have come through the doorway Arthur did." A shadow crossed over his face. "Trust me, she didn't go where Arthur did after she died. Something dark is coming though, and I don't know if Morgana will be involved, or if it is nothing to do with her, or if she is masterminding the whole operation. We'll just have to deal with things as they come and, judging by your history, I don't think you're strangers to that."

Dean barked a laugh. "Well, you're not wrong there," he acquiesced.

Merlin smiled, then started suddenly and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small vial and pushed it across the table in Sam's direction. "Just add a couple of drops to a glass of water and drink it immediately before you go to bed. It'll fend off any normal nightmares."

Sam's brow arched slightly as he studied the liquid before him. "Normal?"

"The potion will, unfortunately, be useless against any dreams of magical origin," he sighed. "If it wasn't I'd have been using it myself."

Sam winced sympathetically and tucked the bottle into his coat. "Thanks."

"No problem. I-" Merlin grimaced and brought his hands to his temple, his eyes screwed shut. "No," he mumbled. "No no no not now, this can't be happening."

The rambling continued in that fashion, and Sam and Dean stood abruptly, hovering uncertainly as they exchanged shocked looks with Mary and Cas, none knowing what to do. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it ended, and Merlin slumped forward with a groan. Sam, who was closest to him, managed to grab him just in time to stop him from face-planting the leftovers of breakfast, and eased him into a more comfortable position. He hovered cautiously as the younger man recovered then backed away a couple of paces when it seemed like he was no longer about to keel over. They waited in silence as Merlin massaged his temple, groaning slightly, and tensed as he made to push himself to his feet. When that didn't work, he slumped back into a seated position and looked up at the four of them with pained, tired eyes.

"Something's coming," he told them. "Something big, and it's coming now."

* * *

 **A/N: How was that? I wanted to include more but I think I reached a good (?) ending point so it will be in the next chapter. Which _should_ be posted soon because I have at least half of it planned out and I promise there will be some action there. Please leave a review if you have a moment! Bye!**


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